Break In
by Unoriginality
Summary: I've been living here for three months. And I still have days where I don't remember. (A BTWWL fic.)


I've been living with him for three months. He thinks I remember, maybe not all of it, but enough.

Truth is, some days I barely remember a thing. I can only remember what happened after that last mindwipe.

But I suppose that's enough. Enough to remember him. Enough to hear the truth in those words, see the love in his eyes. That's enough to keep me hanging on, enough to keep me being 'Bucky' instead of simply 'you' or if I was lucky, 'Winter Soldier'.

I don't know why my head feels so unstable, why I go from remembering nearly everything to remembering almost nothing at all. Maybe too many years of chemicals and machines. I wonder if I'll ever be normal again. Maybe I will. Maybe it'll just take time for my brain to finish rebooting. I hope so, anyway.

I sit up on the roof of our apartment complex on these days, days where I can't quite tell the difference between my past as Bucky and my past as the century's most brutal assassin. The thing that binds my personalities is that we both thought we were doing good. They had me convinced that Hydra would give the world freedom, if we just manipulated history in just such a way. That was my job. Even with chemicals and mindwipes, they couldn't get me to do anything without convincing me it was the right thing to do.

Sometimes I wish I'd died in that fall off the mountain. So much would be different. But then, Hydra would've just found a different weapon, maybe one they didn't have to lie to, one that would've had no problem killing Steve. And he'd be gone. We both would.

That thought doesn't sit comfortably with me, no matter what mind I'm in. So I figure that despite everything, this was the best way for things to go.

"Bucky?"

I look back at Steve over my shoulder. It's odd that he's up here, he never bothers me when I come to the roof. I wonder what's wrong. "Yes?"

Steve walks over and sits on the edge of the roof next to me. "Talk to me, Bucky," he says.

I'm not sure what he means by that, so I stare at him for a minute or so, then look back over the city. "About what?"

"What's going through your head?" he asks. "I know I usually leave you alone up here, but I think it's time you stopped brooding by yourself. It's not healthy."

I don't answer, not until he says my name again in prodding. "I don't remember," I finally confess. "Not these days. I come up here to try to." I steal a glance at him out of the corner of my eye.

He takes in a deep breath, clearly considering my words. "You will," he finally says. "But you won't do it alone. Come inside."

I feel myself cringe a bit. Even as this, I'm hesitant to do anything against Steve. "I don't want to hurt you," I tell him. "It's better if I stay up here."

"You won't hurt me, Bucky," Steve says, and I have trouble believing that as much as he obviously does. He puts a hand on my shoulder. "I trust you. Even if you think I shouldn't, I do. And what you have done is already forgiven."

"But not forgotten."

He shakes his head. "No. But forgiven. I don't blame you, Bucky. This, this isn't you. We both know that. But you won't heal if you just sit up here and stare out at the city like it might unlock some great mystery of the universe."

I turn my head to study him. "If you tell us to kiss and make up, I'm moving back to my own bedroom to keep things from getting weird."

He laughs and I think he might fall off the roof if he's not careful. "That's the Bucky I remember. See? You'll be fine. Now come on, it's almost midnight. We should be asleep."

I do feel better, perhaps a little more myself and less an unrepentant murderer. Maybe Steve is right. It's time to stop hiding. I get up with his help, taking one more glance over the city before turning away with him to go downstairs to our apartment. I don't feel awkward about sharing a room with him, not with knowing how close we'd bunked together on and off through the years, as kids, then as soldiers in close quarters. But I still feel awkward that he caught me being clingy in the only way I know how to be.

He's all I have. I'm afraid to lose that if I'm not close by to protect him.

But he's right. Staying near him has helped, even on my bad days. I start thinking about not going up to the roof so often. It's time to stop giving the Winter Soldier and Hydra so much control over me. I'm Bucky, and Steve's closest friend. And he's my only friend.

It's Bucky that goes to bed, Steve settling down in his own bed. I watch him for a few minutes before letting myself drift off. It's Bucky that sleeps across the room from Steve, not the Winter Soldier.

We take the small victories where we can.


End file.
